


All My Children Can Become Me

by t0bemadeofglass



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Complete, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Prompt Fill, Some Mythological inaccuracies, family times!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 22:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an effort to help Natasha learn more about who he is Loki introduces her to his children.  All of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fenrir and Hela

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm back with another multi-chaptered prompt fill =] This time many thanks go to menolly23 who wanted to see Loki introducing Natasha to his children. I promise there will be more to come, in which Nat meets Jorgamund and Sleipnir, and then a bonus family reunion! So that's what we've got to look forward to =] I hope you liked! 
> 
> A note about the [likely many] mythological/MCU inaccuracies: I did take a few liberties with what I learned both about myth and what I found out about the characters in the MCU, so if any of this offends you I'm really sorry about that. If there are any terrible, glaring mistakes please feel free to point them out to me and, if they're not part of what I have planned, I'll be sure to fix them. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Title of the piece comes from the song "Smother" by Daughter. Gorgeous song

“Loki, I’m not so sure about this.”  Natasha couldn’t sound less like herself if she tried, the self-conscious quaver in her voice forcing Loki to pause just moments away from opening the door, green eyes turning to face her.  He looked curious, confused, and all the more conflicted because he wanted this so badly to go well, but if she wasn’t comfortable, well, he’d learned better than to push it.  Withdrawing his hand from the doorknob he turned back to face her, his hands holding onto her shoulders as he squeezed gently.  She avoided his gaze at first, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of her own weakness finally played out in front of her, and he caught her chin before she had time to retract from him further, worried that if she did they’d never address what the hang-up was, and he very much wanted to fix it.  

“What are you unsure about?” He asked, quiet and consoling, and familiar only to Natasha in moments of extreme caution such as this.  He didn’t want her to go in with a defeatist perspective but a positive one.  It was supposed to be a happy occasion, after all, not something that she dreaded.  

“What if . . . what if they don’t like me?” She asked, looking up at him, the flash of fear and worry chilling him to the bone.  

He forced himself to smile and leaned down to press a slow, relaxed kiss to her lips.  She liquified under his touch, molding against him, her fingers clinging to his arms, begging him not to let go.  But let go he had to.  

“They’ll love you,” he promised with a quiet huff when he finally pulled away, ignoring Natasha’s quiet groan of protest.  If she had it her way she’d distract him with kissing and touching and they’d never get anywhere.  He knew her far too well.  “Where is your sense of adventure?” He’s back to teasing now, winking when her face turns to that of indignation for a moment.  She hits his shoulder, his ruse working despite her attempts to ignore it, and she steeled herself.  He took her hand in his for a quick moment, squeezed it and smiled when she returned the gesture.  

“Come now, a smile will make you much more likable,” he teased, hand flitting back to the doorknob and twisting.  There was a quiet creak as it opened, and a low whine from inside as those within caught the scent of the approaching figures.  Natasha did her best to quell her fear, thinking it would only make it worse, but she couldn’t help the way her eyes flew wide, or how her feet stuttered just paces behind Loki.  

The wolf was what took her by surprise first, sitting back on his haunches and nearly as tall as she was with thick grey and black fur, which was being stroked by a younger woman, a sickly looking woman with skin whiter than death and black eyes that turned on the pair of them.  While Loki smiled and greeted them all with a murmur in a language not even Natasha knew (though, looking back she’d assume it was Norse, or else something familiar to those of Asgard), Nat couldn’t help but hold back.  The wolf had turned its great head to face hers, yellow eyes dilating as it sniffed once, twice, then stood on all four legs to advance on her.  Natasha tried not to move back as he stepped closer, Loki introducing him as Fenrir, his son of Angrboda the giantess, his own hand reaching out to stroke the wolf’s soft fur.  And it was soft, Natasha found out as she stuck her hand out, palm open, as she’d been taught to do with any dog she’d ever met (even as her mind screamed at her that there was no way in hell this was a dog--this creature was far too wild and enormous to be even put in the same class.)  The large nose twitched as he sniffed the extended appendage and Natasha tried not to think of how easily he could open his mouth and snap off her arm.  If the stories were to be believed he’d done it before.  Fenrir seemed to sense her discomfort and his eyes narrowed in the slightest of motions, tail lowering a little as it brushed the floor.  

Natasha nearly choked on air as she forced herself to smile, to tell herself it was alright.  “Hello Fenrir,” she murmured, voice as unthreatening as she could make it as she held herself still.  Well, mostly.  She couldn’t stop the shaking entirely.  He sniffed at her again, large ears twitching, and eventually pressed his nose into her hand, then the top of his head, allowing her to ruffle the thick, coarse fur on the top.  There was a soft tuft just behind his left ear that she scratched gently, and the keen that left the large wolf’s mouth ran through her body.  Or maybe that was the way his right leg twitched as he leaned into the motion, completely wrapped up in the sensation of her scratching behind his ear.  His tail swished hard on the floor and Nat was reminded of an overly excited puppy finally getting some attention.  Her fear shattered she stepped closer, allowing herself to grin as she moved her fingers up to rub his ears and oh they were soft!  His eyes had closed and she swore she saw him grinning as she switched ears.  

“A pity.  I could’ve used another warrior’s soul below,” the young girl said, her arms folded over her chest as she watched the pair of them, face conflicted as she watched her brother and the redhead in front of her bond.  “My name is Hela, I’m the queen of the dead.”  She sounded a little smug of her title, and Natasha afforded her a smile.  Like father like daughter, she supposed, and when she extended a hand the girl’s skin was ice cold.  It was all Natasha could do not to shudder at the sudden shock of cold.  She supposed that ran in the family, too.  Fenrir had turned to his father and was rubbing his head on Loki’s palm, though the man wasn’t staring at his son. His eyes were too focused on Natasha to notice much else, and he was smiling widely as he watched Hela pick up a quick conversation with Natasha about the death count of her last mission.  The woman seemed impressed, and Nat let herself get distracted from the nerves she still had rolling around in the pit of her stomach.  When Loki had told her that he wanted her to meet his family she’d assumed Thor, Frigga, and maybe even Odin if the god of mischief was feeling particularly generous with his feelings.  She’d never anticipated meeting his children, knowing that while this was a symbol of his trust it also meant he expected this to go on for some time.  That she would be a . . . would she be a stepmother to them?  The concept was strange, especially when she considered calling Fenrir a son.  And then there was the matter of his other children.  Sleipnir was sure to be fine, but Jörmungandr?  If the rumors and Thor’s stories were true then she was in way over her head.  Literally.  

“Natasha, are you listening to me?” Hela asked, tipping her head to the side and narrowing her eyes.  She hated being ignored, as so many people seemed to do according to Loki, especially when they had prayed to the deities at night.  

“I’m sorry I zoned out,” Natasha admitted, figuring the truth was better than the lie, and though frustration shone in the goddess’s eyes there was understanding as well, and Nat assumed surprise that she’d actually been told the truth.  That couldn’t have been often.  The young girl repeated what she’d said, complimenting Natasha on her excellent fighting technique and that the souls that she’d sent down had barely been ravaged.  Natasha thanked her, and the conversation went on for some time until Hela had to return to the underworld. She smiled at Natasha before she left, the gesture small but significant. How many people could say that the queen of the dead smiled at them while they were still alive? Loki had come to stand at her side, his son having sit down beside them to listen, dozing off in the process. As Natasha looked down at him she wondered how she'd ever been nervous about meeting them, though she supposed of all of them these two were likely the least threatening.

She couldn't help but give a tiny tremor at that idea. Damn.

 

“Did you enjoy seeing them?” Loki asked, smiling broadly as they walked back to the tower.  It was clear he had; there was a spring in his step that there hadn’t been for some time, and his hand was laced tightly with hers.  He brought it up to his lips, kissing the back.  “They thoroughly enjoyed you.  Hela says I’m to bring you down to visit her some day.”  

“Does she?  Hopefully not to stay,” Nat said as a joke, though there was some truth laced in her words.  Loki just smiled and shook his head.  

“No, pet.  Not to stay.  Just to visit with her.  She gets lonely and I cannot always spare the time.  And I thinks he longs for a mother.”  He admitted the last after a long pause, swallowing hard and looking up.  “Her mother wants very little to do with her, and Hela is not quick to forgive any slights.  I am not certain they will ever speak again.”

“Her mother doesn’t ever visit?” Natasha asked, confused.  

“No, her mother is dead,” Loki said, frowning over at her, as though realizing he’d not been truthful from the get go.  “Angrboda has been dead for some time.  She is the mother to Fenrir, Jörmungandr, and Hela, and she was the first woman, well, I’m not certain you could call it love but I was very attached to her.  Shortly after she gave birth to Hela she died, and though they live closer than my daughter and I, her mother is very aloof and solitary.  It was what I liked so much about her.”  

Nat absorbed as much as she could, thinking it over.  “So she’s never really had a mother figure, has she?”

“She’s not had much of a parental figure in general, my poor darling.  While Fenrir and Sleipnir were able to stay on Asgard, at least for some time in Fenrir’s case, I was able to see them frequently.  Hela was given the underworld almost instantly, and Jörmungandr, once he grew, was put to use as well.”  He bit his lip and stopped just as they stepped into the tower.  “I’m sorry to have thrown you into meeting them without all the facts; I should have been more honest.”

“It’s fine,” Natasha assured him before she could really think about what she was saying.  But it was, really, when she thought about it.  She could never have children, so why not act the mother to those who needed it?  Even if she didn’t do the best of jobs, it was better than nothing she supposed.  She squeezed his hand and leaned up to kiss his cheek.  “So, when do I get to meet the next two?”  

 


	2. Sleipnir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurray, chapter two! Thanks so much for reading--I'm enjoying exploring these characters and I hope you like this chapter as much as I liked writing it.

While Natasha was not allowed to travel up to Asgard, Loki did manage to find a time when Odin could spare his mount for a few days.  Sleipnir was every bit as glorious a steed as Nat had heard Thor and Loki speak of, and her eyes widened when Loki brought her outside to look at him.  His coat was a dark grey, smooth as silk looking, and with his six front legs he was always in constant motion.  While for any other animal it might have seemed jerky, or unbalanced he moved as smoothly as water did, dark eyes seeking Natasha out and seeming to stare into her soul.  She shuddered.  What was it with all of Loki’s children and seeming to see more than most humans Nat came to meet with on a day to day basis?  It was unnerving, knowing that she had so few secrets that she would be able to keep from them.  Not that they could really understand, she hoped.  

“Natasha, this is Sleipnir, my son.  My first son,” he said with a smile as he stepped closer to stroke the horse’s wide nose.  Sleip pressed his head into Loki’s hand, dark eyes closing as he breathed deep, nostrils flaring with the breath released.  Loki urged Natasha closer and motioned for her to mirror what he was doing.  Her smiled to see her hand shaking with nerves and whispered to her that everything was fine.  The horse’s fur was soft, impossibly so, and brought an easy smile to Natasha’s voice as she whispered her hellos to the large animal.  He stood just slightly taller than she was, his head tipped forward to allow her better leverage, which Nat took full advantage of to scratch behind his ears.  She felt a smile worming its way across her lips as she cooed his name, making his ears flick forward and his eyes open up.  

She felt lost within them, suddenly able to see the years he and Loki spent together, the latter trying to teach the foal how to run and how to listen to commands, watching as Sleipnir grew taller and taller, stronger with every passing year.  She watched the horse’s undying affection for his mother, saw it in every visit Loki made to the stable with sugar cubes or carrots or whatever else might have made the horse happy--even tarts stolen from the kitchens.  She watched Loki take him out for long rides through the deep forests of Asgard, tracking the smallest of animals to the rarest of plants for one of Loki’s spells, always only when Odin could spare the horse.  She watched Loki’s dismay at seeing his son rode into battle against the Jotuns, watching Odin mistreat him as though he were some common stable-bred stallion and not his grandson, watch him countlessly deny him as anything other than a gift.  

She pulled away with a short gasp, head spinning with the memories.  The horse’s eyes are unblinking as he stared at her and Loki gave a soft titter.  

“No need to be protective my darling,” he cooed as he stroked the horse’s head and it took Natasha a moment to realize that he was talking to his son, not her.  She let out a short bark of a laugh, self consciousness taking over for the first time in years as she wrapped her arms around her front.  

“I’m sorry, Natasha.  He doesn’t do too well with meeting new people without being a little . . . overzealous about showing them how close he and I are.”  Loki sounds sympathetic and apologetic all rolled into one, his lips curved in a slow smile as he reached out to cup the side of Nat’s face.  She couldn’t help but smile back and turn her attention to Loki’s son.  The gray horse had been watching the exchange with perked up ears, eyes moving from one to the other.  

“I won’t hurt your daddy, I promise,” Natasha murmured, reaching out to stroke his neck gently.  “I love him just as much as you do.”  Two of Sleipnir’s hooves pawed at the ground where Loki had brought him out, and he gave a quiet nicker at her words, eyes flicking away from her as though to roll them.  

Loki snorted, rolling his eyes.  “Be polite, Sleipnir,” he admonished quietly, tapping the horse on the back, to which Sleipnir responded by nudging his father with his head.  Nat watched them with an easy smile on her face, amazed at how comfortable they could be around the other, that even out of such a brutal beginning a bond could still be forged between the two, the pair made stronger by the hardships endured to bring Sleipnir to the world.  Loki’s loyalty to his son, to all his children really once Natasha thought about it, was amazing, and where the world might have seen monsters Nat could only see a man in love with his children, willing to do anything and everything to keep them safe.  The devotion made her heart heavy with happiness, and Natasha reached out to touch Loki’s arm, trying to convey to her that she was so thankful to him for persuading her to do this.  The look into his life, into what had happened to him, was worth it.  

“How does he do that?  I saw his life--the pair of your lives together as though through Sleipnir’s eyes,” Natasha told him, curious.  “I know that you have magic but did it transfer over when you gave birth?”

“Yes, a little.  Sleipnir has always held a little more sway over the same powers I have than his siblings do.  The mortals--sorry, when we used to come down centuries ago they would see him as divine as the rest of us, and thought him originally created through magic.  As time progressed and the storytellers changed it came out that he was my son, and the lengths I went through to distract the builder and Svaoilfari from completing their task.  His magic has never waned, though, even as the time has passed.”  He brought his hand down the horse’s neck, running his fingers through Sleipnir’s gray mane, smiling and twining them around his fingers as though they were the strings the Norns weaved together as Loki had once described to Natasha.  “And silly boy that he is thought that perhaps you might if he showed you his life, and what we have overcome together, you might grow frightened and run.”  Loki tugged on the hair gently, making Sleip whinney and nudge him with his head again, eyes reproachful.  “Saving me the heartbreak of you doing it later.  Such confidence he has in my choices.”  Loki teased.  

Nat couldn’t blame Sleipnir at all.  How many others had Loki managed to bring to meet his children, and how worried would she have been in his son’s position that his father might get his heart broken after so much trust was placed in one person?  Loki hadn’t exactly had the best of times with trusting others.  “I promise I’m not trying to hurt your father,” she murmured.  Sleipnir’s ears swiveled towards her, his eyes wide as he watched her.  “I love him very much, and I’m honored to get to meet you and your siblings.  I understand that you’re protective, but I want to be with him.”  

It seemed to appease the horse, who lowered his head to allow Natasha to rub the top of his head.  It seemed to be a favorite spot, one of his hooves pawing constantly at the ground as she scratched it gently, the fur soft beneath her fingertips and the slightest of tremors running through Sleipnir’s body.  Loki gave a surprised laugh.  

“Well then, you seem to have convinced him.”  A pause, and Loki’s lips twisted into a wide, toothy grin.  “Want to go for a ride?”  

 

Nothing would ever be the same after riding around on Sleipnir for a few hours.  The wind whipped her hair backwards and she thought it might pull her off his back as well they were moving so fast. If not for her arms around Loki’s waist it might have, but she held fast, laughing as they picked up speed again and again, cutting through the air at impossibly fast speeds.  Loki urged his son on, begging him to show Natasha just exactly what a son of Loki could do, and the horse rose to the challenge, utilizing all his power to sprint around the isolated park Loki had transported them to.  Not only could he run faster than any creature on this world, but he was smart as well, quick thinking as he dodged between trees and jumped over shrubs.  While the landing might have been hard had he been a regular horse it was as gentle as if they’d never left the ground.  Nat could hardly blame Odin for taking him into battle, though she knew it worried Loki greatly; he would have made an excellent war horse, perfect for weaving in and out of the battlefield to smash the heads of foes in as she imagined Odin to do.  But for Loki Sleipnir was better suited.  The two moved as one, Sleip responding to every subtle twitch of Loki’s thigh, the softest of sighs or whispers from his lips, and it was all Nat could do not to gape at their connection.  

Truth be told it felt more like flying than riding a horse, and she grew sad when they finished, Sleipnir’s chest heaving as he breathed hard, body covered in a fine sheen of sweat.  Loki dismounted first, whispering to his son how proud of him he was, how strong he’d become and how much he loved him before he turned his attention to Natasha, helping her down with a soft apology.  Nat waved it away, squeezing his hand.  She didn’t need words when she could see just how much they loved one another, depended on one another.  She only wished the stallion could remain on Midgard, but with so many legs and as large as he was it would only be too soon before he caught unwanted attention, and she knew more than most how cruel people could be to those that were different.  Loki pressed his forehead to his son’s, whispering how he promised to see him soon, to bring him back to Midgard to spend more time with Natasha, and asking him to be a good boy at home before sending him back to the stables of Asgard.  

Once more Nat took his hand in hers, brushing her lips against his fingers.  “He’ll be alright.  He’s so strong, Loki,” she promised him.  It was easy to see, even only after knowing him for a few short hours.  “And you’re such a good father.  Really.”

His smile made it all worth it when he finally turned to her, the tears in his eyes softening the corners gently as he leaned in to kiss her, a thank-you brushing against her lips when he pulled away.  

 


	3. Jormungandr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as ever, just a warning that I took some artistic licensing with Jormungandr, both MCU Canon-wise and mythologically speaking, and I apologize if it really upsets anyone but I was moved by an idea and kinda ran with it (because to be completely honest I was wracking my brains about how to even think about writing this. Holy smokes I've never been so intimidated in my life.)  
> Either way, I hope you enjoy it and that you stick around for the final chapter which I'll hopefully get around to writing sometime this weekend or next, depending on how busy everything gets--again--and sorry about how long it took to get this out. Thanks for all the support and for reading!

If there was one child of Loki’s that Natasha was the most anxious and nervous about meeting it would have to be the world serpent, Jormungandr.  After all, what did one say to a giant serpent who supposedly held the world together, and who would, one day if the tales were to be believed, be killed by his uncle?  Watch out?  Don’t trust Thor?  Sorry it has to end that way?  Would she even be able to talk to him, or would he simply screech and hiss like the giant snakes she’d seen in movies?  She swallowed hard and pushed those thoughts down as Loki walked with her onto the small boat that he had prepared for them, the waters calm.  She had asked before why they could not simply teleport to where his son was and Loki simply chuckled and shook his head, explaining that his son’s resting place was protected by such a thick layer of enchantments that to even try and use magic to penetrate it would be foolish.  Should anything go wrong, either way, with the magic it might also set his son free, cracking the world in half as a result.  Natasha swallowed hard.  Right, no pressure to keep calm or to make sure that she didn’t anger the giant snake.  None at all.  

“How is it he got so big?” She asked as Loki sat down beside her, rowing their small boat out into the middle of the sea.  It didn’t seem like there was anything out there, though she knew that couldn’t be true.  Right?  Unless he was just hiding.  Again she gave a nervous gulp.  

“It was always his destiny that he was to keep the earth protected and held together,” Loki said with an easy smile.  He paused rowing to extend one hand to her, to stroke the side of her face.  “He won’t hurt you my dear, I just wish you to meet him at least the once.  I’m afraid I’ve been rather neglectful of my son and I do not wish to keep you out of his life entirely.”  

She could read the anxiety on his face though it was of a different kind.  All the while she was sure he expected her to call him crazy, monster, to apologize but confirm that no, she couldn’t be in a relationship with him because his life was just too strange.  That she’d lasted through his first three children had gained her an enormous amount of respect in his eyes, she could tell, but there was a reason Jormungandr was saved for last.  Loki was worried that, of all of them, this would be the one to send her running, and so anxiety and worry was wrought as heavily in the lines of his mouth and eyes as it was in hers, even if their reasons were different.  She tried to reassure him by placing her hand on his that everything would be fine, that she’d still be with him after this was over.  After all, they all had strange pasts, didn’t they?  For all she knew Jormungandr could be an excellent son, she supposed (though it would always be strange to her how he managed to come from Loki.)

“What is more, though I am a runt I still have recessive giants blood in me, and his mother was a giantess and a powerful sorceress.  I believe that our magic and heritage had everything to do with his genetics.  I am a shapeshifter after all; Fenrir and Jormungandr prove that it is possible for my abilities to affect my offspring.”

Nat couldn’t have been more grateful that she was unable to have children, no matter how horrible it might have been.  If he wanted kids they could adopt, but she couldn’t imagine laying on the birthing table and giving birth to a pup or a snake.  She shivered at the thought and Loki, pretending to think she was cold, offered her his leather coat. Natasha took it with a small smile, wrapping herself in the warm leather, pulling the straps tight around her and finding solace and some semblance of peace in the fresh scent of him mingling with the salt water.  

At least she wasn’t sea sick.  

They stopped a good half an hour or so after having departed and Loki stood slowly in the boat.  The rocking back and forth made Natasha little nervous, though she tried to ignore the way he rstomach flipped over and over like the rolling waves did.  It wouldn’t do to be afraid, right?  Hadn’t she gone through that with Fenrir?  A low song fell from Loki’s lips, washing over the water in front of them which had begun to bubble and froth about a mile away from them.  Well, here it was.  She watched in awe as the once deep blue water turned black, then glowed icy blue as the water began to churn faster than ever, something large and green rising from its depths.  

Jormungandr’s head was as large as three Hulks, its eyes red and staring at the two of them as he rose his whole head from the depths of the water.  Nat’s breath caught in her throat, sure her eyes were blown wide in fear and awe as he began to near them, neck elongating so that he could tower over them, head cocked to the side as his enormous eyes, big as stop signs, took the pair of them in.  

‘Father.’  The voice was around them and inside Natasha’s head at the same time, making her gasp.  At least he sounded like his father, smooth and slow as molasses and just as sweet.  ‘Who is it you have brought me?’  

“Jormungandr, I wish you to meet the Lady Natasha, my love.”  Loki said, extending his hand to the son that dwarfed him.  The serpent’s head lowered unto Loki could spread one tiny palm over the green, water-covered scales.  He urged Natasha to come and stand beside him.  She could hardly do such, knees so weak that Loki had to help her stand.  There was a soft chuckle in her head that she was sure came from the water snake in front of her, and he breathed in, mouth open to show fangs as long as her arm when Loki placed her hand on his nose as well.  His pink tongue flicked out and it was all Natasha could do to keep in the terrified whimper that threatened to spill from her lips.  

‘You fear me, daughter of Midgard?  I have protected your realm since before you were a thought in the cosmos, why would I wish to hurt you?’  He sounded bemused more than anything else, though his words did little to assuage Natasha’s fears.  Loki covered her hand in his and whispered in her ear that she was doing so well and to take as much time as she needed.  

“I’m sorry, Jormungandr,” she finally managed to say, and thought she deserved a hell of a pat on the back as well as a bottle of vodka for how steady she managed to keep her voice.  “I’ve never seen something so great as you before.  Yes, you terrify me, but you amaze as well.”  Flattery was the best policy, wasn’t it?  “So when I shake before you please think it only out of respect and admiration for all that you have done for my planet.”

Again the laugh sounded in her head, this time mingled with Loki’s, his eyes bright with amusement as he met Natasha’s.  She stepped gently on his foot.  It wasn’t nice to make fun of her when she was trying so hard.  

‘Your words are very pretty, Lady Natasha, I see why my father has chosen you for his consort.’  

He and Loki went back and forth for some time, speaking to one another about the advances of the time, what Jormungandr had seen while in the depths, the ingenuity of the mortals.  They spoke as though they weren’t a part of the world when Nat couldn’t have thought any different for the snake.  How could he think himself so distanced from the realm that he’d given his entire existence to protect?  Perhaps it was another question for a different day, because he was already sinking back down into the water, stopping only when the top of his head was sticking out, his red eyes focused entirely on Natasha now.  

‘It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Natasha, and I desire to learn more about you, but another day.  I wish not to garner more attention than I have already, as I’m sure you understand.  Your people seem to love creating stories about me, but with their inventive streaks I wish not to give them the opportunity to discover the truth of it all.’  

“Of course.  Thank you, Jormungandr, for meeting me.”  

He winked one of those luminous eyes and slipped back into the water which shook the small boat that they were still standing on.  For one horrible moment Natasha envisioned herself plunging over the side, to open her eyes in the salt water and see just how large of a beast he really was.  She felt sick and quickly sat down, knuckles white as she clutched to the sides of the boat.  Loki just grinned and said his own goodbyes in a language Natasha could not understand.  As before, the water glowed icy blue, then darkened, then shifted back, the creature of legend thoroughly encased in his protective shell.  

“That wasn’t so bad was it?” Loki asked.  Natasha punched him.  

“Next time we’re bringing a larger boat,” she grumbled, pulling her knees to her chin as Loki just laughed.  

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I'm so sorry for the delay and how long it took to get this out; things have been super hectic around here, but it's finally done! Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it!

If Nat thought that meeting all the children individually was daunting, she supposed she had no idea what to expect when Loki said that he wanted to get them all together and have a picnic, except Jormungandr, she supposed.  She had no idea how the poor snake would be expected to leave his post, let alone fit in central park.  Still, she smoothed out her skirt and fixed her hair for what felt like the hundredth time as she looked back in the mirror.  ‘It’s a young girl, a wolf, and a horse.  They’re not going to care what you look like.  Hela lives with the dead, after all.’

But she cared.  She cared very much what they thought about her, how they saw her, even if it didn’t make a difference.  She wanted so much to fit in with them, to have a family of her own since it was medically impossible for her to carry children, and, well, adopting Loki’s didn’t seem like such a bad alternative if they’d let her.  She hoped they’d let her.  

Swallowing hard she took a deep breath and answered the door when Loki knocked on it a moment later.  He did a double up-down, making her smile widen in pleasure.  Well, that was nice at least.  “Am I presentable?” She teased, twirling slowly.  The black dress had green dots on it and fell just past her knees with short sleeves and a pair of strappy black sandals that she could run in if she needed to.  It was about as comfortable as dressing up got, and she’d still be able to fight in it if worse came to worse.  They’d discussed many a time about what the public’s reaction would be if they found the Black Widow dating the man who tried to take over the world, especially if his children were discovered as well, so Nat wanted to be prepared to stop any and all invaders.  It wouldn’t be right to subject his children to that.  

“You look absolutely stunning,” he complimented, seeming to have found his voice again with a wide smile on his face.  He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it before leading her over to the elevator that would take them down to the bottom level where the other three were presumably waiting.  

“So, what’re we doing about Jormungandr?” She asked, curious, wringing her hands slowly behind her back before she caught herself.  She never got nervous.  Ever.  What the hell was happening to her?  

“I thought you and I might go visit him again.  This time in the bigger boat you requested,” he offered with a wink, taking one of her hands in his own to squeeze it.  “And don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.”

His look told her just how stupid of an idea it was to lie to the God of Lies.  She swore inwardly for that, hating that she couldn’t even hide her anxiety from him.  “Sorry,” she finally murmured, stepping closer to him to rest her head on his shoulder.  Her hair bounced over his black shirt and she watched his chest rise and fall out of the corner of her eyes.  “I don’t know why I’m so nervous because I’ve met them all before, but I am.”

“Don’t worry.  Everything will go perfectly,” he promised her, kissing the top of her head as he inched his hand away from hers to wrap his arm instead around her shoulders.  It felt perfect like that, comfortable and familiar, and she found herself regretting the end of the elevator ride.  She didn’t want to face the picnic.  

This was ridiculous.  She’d faced down HYDRA members, Ivan Vanko, lived through the Red Room, and even though the attempted world domination of the man just to her side, and here she was worried about some get together with his children?

Yes.  No matter how stupid it sounded she was, though she supposed there was no other option but to get over it.  Conquer it.  She could do that, couldn’t she?

For a moment, as Loki walked with her quickly down the street, she wasn’t so sure, the lump in her throat telling her to go back, to stay home and hide in the rafters like Clint liked to do until no one could find her and gave up for want of answers.  The other part of her told her to simply bite the bullet and get it over with, to think of how disappointed Loki would be, and how much less his children would like her.  There, that was a better perspective, and she clung to the idea as she smiled and walked to the park with him.  He’d managed to set up what she was calling a perimeter charm to keep others from entering for a few hours on a small portion of the greenery, though they couldn’t stay much longer than that for fear of the population figuring out why no one was playing or spending time in that one general area.  Sleipnir was laying down and watching Hela throw a ball for Fenrir, a slight chuckle passing his lips every time that Fenrir had to jump extremely high or double over to reach it.  

When Natasha and Loki stepped close enough the three looked up, and Fen, instead of chasing the ball that went soaring up past the tops of the trees, came running towards them with a huge grin on his face.  Loki hardly had to bend down for the pup to come up to his face, and his tongue was out lapping at the demigod’s cheek.  

“Alright, alright, down,” Loki laughed.  He looked years younger, the worry and stress disappearing from his face as he ran his hands through Fenrir’s fur and looked lovingly into the wolf’s bright eyes.  “Such a good boy.  Who’s my good boy?”  
“You know I’m always grateful you never talk to the rest of us like that,” Hela snarked from the other side, her arms wrapped over her chest as she smirked over at the pair of them.  She was a sight to be seen in black and green, just like her father wore, though it accentuated how gaunt and pale she really was.  She stepped closer to embrace Natasha, taking the redhead off guard by just how strong the young woman in front of her was, nearly choking the life out of her (she would wonder about that later) before leading her back to where they’d already set up the picnic.  

“You look healthy, Natasha.  I wanted to say thank you for sending me that squadron of Hydra goons the other day,” she grinned.  “We needed a little fresh meat down below, if you know what I mean.  It tends to get dull when you’ve only got a few trickling in every so often, but as large a team as you brought me?”  Her smile grew even wider, showing sharp teeth and a dangerous glint behind her eyes that would’ve set Nat screaming if she hadn’t been so well taught.  “Well, it was tantamount to your mortal Christmas.  I’ve never been allowed so much freedom to devise torments for what those bastards had done.”

“Yes, well they deserved it,” Natasha said with an easy shrug, trying to ignore the way her stomach rolled.  Loki had taken up Hela’s previous job of throwing the ball to Fenrir, only this time the wolf was more than happy to wrestle for ownership of the toy rather than simply handing it over.  Sleipnir rolled his eyes and extended his head to rest it on Natasha’s leg, allowing Nat to run her fingers through his soft mane.  “Do you devise tortures for everyone who goes down to see you?”  Which, if the myth was to be believed, was everyone who didn’t die honorably in childbirth or battle.  “Because they died when they were fighting so shouldn’t they go to--.”

“They were fighting for a cause that would be considered evil.  There’s a distinction, the Norns and what not made sure of that,” Hela reassured her, going off on her explanation of the politics of Hel and what factored into it.  Natasha did her best to listen, and though it was interesting she couldn’t help but look over at Loki.  He caught her eyes more than once and smiled, nodding, glad that she was doing so well.  She drew strength from his approval and relaxed, laying back on the blanket.  They watched the clouds pass them by, sipping mead and honeyed wine that Loki had provided, Fenrir gnawing at the largest flank of beef they’d been able to bring along without attracting too much attention, Sleipnir picking at his oats and Hela just smirking as she watched her father and his girlfriend shoot quick glances at one another.  

“If you two want to sneak off to fuck we won’t be offended,” she said offhandedly, as though it wasn’t a big deal.  Nat felt her cheeks heat up for the quickest of moments and Loki’s smile turned to a scowl.  

“Don’t be rude, Hela.”

“You’re the ones making ridiculous bedroom eyes at one another.  I’m just saying go get it over with; seriously, dad.”  She drew the last word out with a teasing lilt, winking when she caught Nat’s eye.  “Don’t be such a prude.”  

Loki’s eyes narrowed and he was about to tell her off when Nat leaned over to lay a hand on his shoulder and squeeze.  It defused the bomb he’d had building inside him and he took her hand in his own, his thanks silent but still felt.  

“God, you two are too cute. I’m gonna throw up,” Hela said as she rolled her eyes and stood up.  “And as much as I hate to go, I’ve gotta.  The dead can’t rule themselves,” she reminded them.  Nat rose to her feet and once more they embraced before Hela said her final goodbyes to her siblings, father, and disappeared.  Nat visibly relaxed once she’d gone.  

“You’ll grow used to her,” Loki assured Natasha with a smile as he reached back to stroke Fenrir’s fur.  Nat had started to do the same to Sleipnir, and the afternoon passed peacefully enough for the four of them, enjoying the company of one another, Loki and Nat talking quietly as Fen dozed off, a full belly and a happy grin on his face, and Sleipnir listened to the sounds of his family, ears perked up despite his closed eyes.  Not a bad way to spend an afternoon, Nat decided as she laid back against the horse and grinned over at Loki.  She could get used to this, never having had a family before to spend time with.  If this was what it would entail, though, she knew it was all she'd ever wanted.  

 


End file.
